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Fractured structure of rite what with chains and shackled what to lies to those who have power pressed to push me beyond my limits; food for thought refusing to document life in the mind of orphans the world the destroyer of what is right and at least nothing goes unnoticed; balancing the scales and rising my value within the community that is see with power

Black Widow spider

the flower in glass; the spider waits a safe distance away a fruit dish; in the sun as sunlight moves from one end of the room to the other; flies gather and float over the terrarium my pet eagar; As I wave at the fly and it seeks shelter among the peddles; Poison is her name and what I have is time to spend feeding her fantisies in my glass palace.

Natural selection apex preditors and their perfect position; a place without persuasion; a place on a list finding pieces to puzzle a fighter a calm mind can find what crime was committed only what was as I have often to many cloths in my room.

Born in Sin Life of a manchild; inocent and blind kept captive on a farm a grove beyond the field where he would wonder abrazed the brazen blunder what causing calised chosen wards without logic. in a sea of seedless memory; keys of Solomon. Hostile Americans and dreams walking the streets with a scoundrel.

endless war! not knowing the all powerfull. tin and brass version of the epic tale Renaissance order to observe and alter making believe out of heiritics. gospels of Babylon. apologies from God are already forgiven as they are easily forgotten.

Every Morning camomile tea eating only fruit I found time. Nick nacks on the counter frogs in collection the price of angels wards relief found.

Cutting the fat resting on my thoughts working through what I don't know. a bully is a gambler and suffers through his falts leading the cause of death. it amazes me resembles what a blessing money resembles power. hear and see what is worth knowing.

Brothers eternal last breath fighting the seasons; friends forever; the curse of death, the hope is never gone abandon nothing until there is nothing to hold on; who we are as brothers what we can do a world of wonder a world subdued.

walls of pain the stress of sleepless mess a mass of sorrow weird darker days ment not to be forgotten strange works destroy a man apon the streets leaving nothing with misbelief not a place to die, I grieve no more and am as I would be without strife; ambition is hope all stars align for those who reach for them and the best mentions are what we ourselves confess. As the sky may fall stars may destroy worlds.

Pulling down on me unsaid getting older wanting more not having as the world is slipping away dusting myself off; when I was younger took a heartbeat now I am Grey warn; hoping to know why life let's me down; what will I have left another winter another spring; what way I climb now old and grey just to see a day it all stays the same. Never again goes away.

Feckless and pothetic a life and living; not enough riches and Glory passing as you age never truly convinced places in prisons graced in pain what terror rests within moments lasting months not years of fret faceless enemies haunt your dreams keeping you from sleep. how weirry we toil coldren boil rapping on my chamber door; a sweat slumber needed a relief, a wonder beyond disbelief of horid luck; joy within curses and death.

What was in Merry meet as I onced loved; to see a separation complete injuries and hexes; apon my feet remorse of love forbidden and lost seasons left in grief what is said on way direction not knowing what was stolen with my heart; heart broken what of me one mind; a mixture of bad luck and mindless hope losing a lover; myself I have been lost perhaps forever displaced now within me a logic of losing.

As I am alone I am desterbed by the facts; placing good people in a House of Tyrants all what good can come of calamedy and confusion; life and death is never herd. a liars game of work; life is cheep and nothing is left standing. house devided leans. we suffer and return to see how we suffered.

position of my right hand guided by moments pause writing a will greater grander strive for an unreached pinochle catalist to power to be seen to be heard, my poise a plan calculating an untouched plans; a level of living never achieved before wanting more then what was gained unfinished and incomplete.

Resembling a fable a place beyond time; the clock keeps ticking; not sick but lost a longing for home; my life as it was waist the days resembling a fable a place away from the crowd heartless not sick; longing for home; my life was waisted in days a place beyond time.

oh all they can blame; they said what they will always say; trouble it seems is part of this pain; what loss is left a balance is met with a thrust what is week will not remain; a crime from the unknown favors made waist interpretate laws; the laws what waist was in what they had not said; oh all they can blame; what they said what they will always say; trouble it seems is part of this pain. pay attention and live life they way you want to live.

The art a practice in raising the devil cojouring for purposes of revolation bones in a bucket could not tell how we where falling a crime in passing hew longing for days we had life so care free waking up hurts as odd tower head Necropolis an ancient resting city seen and ushered off to bed the dead that could not say how we are to be we who know a place of knowing logic bright and gleaming show. show only the ways we die.

I missed the bloodmoon; not where I meant to be; back to the sea a home is waiting a home it could not be the parting so ruff the sky so clean the distance traveled drew apart the seems plots played out things of pain pulling on my mind completely and insain now a calm wind blows warm summer Twilight a moment I rose I flee no more no man cases; people no longer seem strange I am no longer the stranger.

Living by event. The opening a crack in social gathering. Glamor and pain the song of the believer. Not wallowing in his dismay having hope in all that is written. Cooking the flesh the guest eat as if to devower my soul. I dip away and find comfort in a room to write.

The punishment of lacking the foresight gone the efforts of vanity cracked the fragile bands of hope. Longing for the answer the motivation of having holding strength in the unknown. Crossing the gap the surface so clean the view was clear. The mistakes and free fall obis lay the laws so I don't care. Payment is due.Clarity will come as I will be sober. If anything is remembered I will be there. Stopping heart and shortened breath I have enjoyed. The fruits are sweet I am over a barrel with nightcaps greeting has waisted me. Clarity of tomorrow washes the sorrow. As I speak my dreams are leading me to bed. Oh what was in my head when I decided to be sick at dawn?

As they saw you. The history on your face oh the loss of things over the years. What is gained is only in life. How short the length of days, the life forgotten. Only what is common remains. The things we made lost in places never to be seen again. Woe the soul in the soil resonation of vibrations an echo of who we are.

Buried alive in the Mesa. The rains came and the ground opened in a flood sinkhole pulled in the whole car. Now wishing that I had stayed on the road leaving New Mexico in February.

Long life and pleasant dreams. Death brings peace and justice for the living. What epic lost in life's eluding frontier.

Funk of night still looking on wrinkled sheets, dosing flames of passion before coffee. Where when I was there you shared and no longer glisten in the moonlight. No longer shook when you walked. I still feel the guilt of your arrival. As you where never mine.

Crumble as this house is shaky refusing to fall as it has been divided long ago. Cracked and stretched, warped board have refused to buckle. A wet towel In the gaps as you place your foundation knowing the stone is slippery with mold, you welcome guest who know your poverty hiding all the flaws soon will take your home.

You where there as sunset over the bay I waited. Not hearing your voice not a moment of you. Alone at the hostile I stirred aware of time as it reads in the rain. Seasons of who you where remedies to pain. I step into the night broken hearted. I cared. We shared a day knowing this may be as the sea you ebbed for me. Sweat scent of memory.

Twisted images standing as I will myself to move freely. The light of age has shined and I walk as I do. The life slips away I tune to what is left. Old must be wise and have no other cloth to hold onto, reminding myself to keep secrets, as I sink into my final posture, I seek the wisdom I have never found in wise men.

Dreams are fleeting sharing wants and misbelief taunting the achievements of tomorrow.

The hawk flys overhead the crows in persuit not one care to the power of the hawk. Simple strokes of air never flapping to wings of his feathers now molting as the birds know the ground majestic verses the craving of crows.

The folds of skin sanded away to a youthful foot. Clean and perfected by the nature of self care, the shine comes from good choices made daily. Rough rigid right the tool for the comfort wanted in a stride.

Clarity will come as I will be sober.

Puking up my soul. I kneel to gag. I stand and stumble to my knees. As I heave in heavy breath the fog is in the air. Gurgle and smile. worlds away I drift oblivion the cosmos and the twists of life exciting after ever after. Evermore. Words of wonder works of fright gates open every night do all you'd can to stay up late the magic doesn't hesitate rainbow sight without a fight.

So scared the voices are loud my mind is on fire. I choke and see nothing of what I wrote so much better then that day of writing preparing for the broken speech that has little to do with now. As I am I cramp my simple work and hope it has sound. Lifting off the stage in misguided rage I ranted I finally found a poem.

Black shades of damp stocks my steps. What I fear is real. The nonsense, suffered in lacking, crack of thunder rolls overhead as I am provoked into chatter. The bones move alone as I shift to run. The night is cold. Holding composure I find the street I shutter on road finding my way all the way home.

Carving my life into notches I swing from the branches, this tree, a simple sway of the heart. The looming shadows stretch out to all I care is rest in the shade of dreams. my life saps into the hollows and roots. As now I am free from the heat of judgement.

Weep for my father's dream is not of me but of Matthew. What ways he sees in amusement a clutter of broken asses a stampede of listless long goodbyes not sorry that I'm gone only that he had a second chance, I will always be wrong. The timeless mess amounting pain shattered glass within the thirteenth page. Amazed at my endless falling at fault to the end.

The empty place where you lived, now exactly that. Hollow remains of abode, challenges the fantisy of the rubble we called ours, and now to me so long ago. You shuddered those waisted words, and the place you made, was never left alone. Open door brought, as I left you finally in the summer. Gone to find myself. Burnt to the ground all that was to hope a safe and loving home.

A slow death awaits the cautious as we vital the conventional summit. Not waiting to be right I felt my way. I see nothing, however something is there. It eats at me in places I do not see. Infested with a silence I seldom go the course. Perhaps this is why I am. A slender ray of light escapes my thoughts. I beacon for change as I waist my time. Avoiding rhyme I am searching. Closes in weird appetite, feeding on sores that do not heal. This place of sightless pest I know you well and detest my being within.

We could live forever. However pantheons could not save a secret passage of life. A mystery in how we are put. Why with all we know we still don't live? Willing to except the loss of others as we refuse to die. What is ever' a question as we sink the boats and release the hounds. The gates are open to suggestion as the answer to life is allusive to those who must know. The ways we live contribute to the death of a soul not reaching heaven.

Memory fading I still retain the words that dispute my worth. Willing to except my failures, I stand in my half full glass of bland poetry. Pouring out all that is in the way I search and find nothing but more the same. Obvious to any reader my life is sad I do nothing of sensation. Bent on sorrow holding to the dark places, I seek the dark as I hold a light. Nothing seems to hook or stick to the ribs. However I will try as I do until I have something profound.

High beams of thought I warp my words to fit a scene of diaster placing victims in the way. The train is coming. I am wrapping my prey in rope. I send nothing into the starry nights as this is acquired to frame a fraise, faze has lifted as I am sleepy in my slurs. The stories have gone from me, and I am desperate to create. For the sake of creating I have few colors and fewer insights to life. Bundling a simple wordless gesture to dreams as I find the ending.

Pumped up huff, when you said that it happened we scoffed however, you could have been if you say the sights you brag, I doubt your motives as you relay a sad story of suffering. Evidence is what is missing as you relay your part. A hero, a villain, and you all alone. Need no sympathy as we hear your woes. Never there not on the road. We can prove our part as we where there and without the losses you have read.

Cold wet flight, rains all the time. The soaked withered stout, the shrubby bubbly have wondered the bar hubs never cleared the night. The city alive with zombies happy hour is empty. The way is bumpy nausea has taken over spinning in the city lights moments still not spoken.

Falling asleep a dizzy haze, contemplating of revolving thoughts sound deep as I share words that are abstract. The contrast for Shure is a day in the park enjoying the sun without. I feel the sun and am free to dip into the construction of mind that is otherwise waisted as I feed my head. Sadness will flood as it goes away and I have full release.

The streets are finally clean and the reckless have gone. No crime, all is one. As the sea is close to the sun we bask in twilight ever growing joy. Now wake up and step outside as all was a lie. Aching growth of the city the junkies are stumbling toward you now, needing a fix of comfort. Waisted days hiding away from all that has come undone.

Troubles in the wake the night has come so fast. I never saw the way you created havoc in my life, and am blind to the warnings. Oh I hoped you would see me as I am. Bent on my distraction I called you friend. Working ways to derail, I found you as you are. Sleep in disaster as I wait for your fall. Perhaps a friend is all you have had, those you disguised.

Oh when you where broke you had my sympathy. Liking the session I was stirred. The fact that now you have, you smile, and seek comfort in sympathy that can not be shared. Sad sack you have what you need of me and go live and find life in the rest of ease that money has brought.

A theory arose as I cleared my throat. I was and will be as I am now. Monsters missed as I whisper incantations, a preparation and a thought. The night give splendor to the deep dark reaches of this room. Promise of sleep and dreams of a life, being glad to wake. The dark longs for your touch. The cracks in the shades give threads of light as the vapors from your oil pot gives sensation to the cool damp darkness. Magic in the air as the soft corress draws you in. Calling into tomorrow with worries of aging and doing your best. No less rest in wanting.

As an insult it fits all that has no value. Poets know the current of the stream and if it is going no where it is that way as the poet saw it. Wondering pander or plots the weight of its value is thoughts. Wordless is the way things go when you don't want a same old flow. Rhyme in the times of waiting, mocking, watching souls. Easy came easy goes.

Self hate. The loathing, sick with regret not enough, all in done. Solitary moment as my reflection has no shine. Water in veins, I am cold. The desperate gaze to suffer the wet sobs that cause sores soak my favorite things. Would have gone in an instant if I hoped for less. Now that should have now forgotten is set apart from my mind I lost the no good things of wet laced with never done.

Overlooking the obvious she is shaking, ruined is the temple toppled over altar her body quakes as I heave mechanically against her hips. A rythem steady she begs for my thrust deeper into oblivion I sink her body beneath the stars and bite the nape of her neck.

Perfection the state of which words don't but in. Only the images can be described by breathing. The shallow weezes' as the air leaves the body. I say that I have found my page, and the images that I layed are not waisted in my invite.

21 Kasım 2021 02:47:40 0 Rapor Yerleştirmek Hikayeyi takip edin
Sonraki bölümü okuyun Rebar and Pitchfork

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